What's New, Pussycat?
by StJost
Summary: A retelling of events after Benny leaves our Courier high and dry in his hotel room. Does it always have to end the way it did? F!Courier/Benny referenced, and Arcade pops up later! Yay Arcade!
1. Woah, Woah

[AN: So I've been hammering this story around in my notebook for a week or so now. It's just something I wanted to get on paper and I figure I ought to start uploading these things whether I think they're worth it or not. My plans (assuming I write more of this story) will be to tell it solely from Benny's perspective. For the most part, the first chapter will be flashback and dialogue; not a lot of action in Caesar's tent, y'know? Things'll pick up in chapter two, though.  
>I know this same situation has been retold in countless fics, but everyone has their little spin on it. This doesn't follow the game script exactly; dialogue is reinvented (with pretty much all the same messages) and events are rearranged to spice things up a bit. I also want to apologize for the lame title. I know it isn't very creative, but I've had that song stuck in my head since the first time I typed "pussycat". Damn you, Benny, and your slang.<br>In this telling, the Courier is never named, so if you want to mentally insert your own Wasteland girlie, go for it.

Reviews are always welcome, and let me know what you think of Benny, character-wise. I'm trying to work on keeping people in character a little better and that can't happen without you- the reviewer. :) I hope you enjoy it!] 

_**What's New, Pussycat?** Chap. 1 - Woah, Woah_

"You must enter Caesar's tent alone." Benny raised his head at the Praetorian's voice. He could only think of one person coming to see Baldie who would need to be told about his policies. He could feel dread settle in his gut as a feminine voice drifted through the fabric of the tent walls. It was followed by a low murmur of consent and a bark and light flooded the tent, followed by a long, sashaying shadow.

Green eyes met his own as she stepped into the room. His breath hitched as her gaze lingered for a moment on his defeated posture and bloodied clothes. She didn't react before passing over him and moving on to speak with Caesar. He had hoped that she wouldn't be too upset about his quick departure. Her stiff posture suggested otherwise. He heaved a shuddering sigh. He had also hoped she wouldn't follow him. He couldn't help but feel like he'd put her through enough. After all, it was his damned ambition that pulled her into this whole debacle, wasn't it? Maybe he should have knocked her out before she saw anything, or taken the package while she was sleeping. Anything would have been better than the weeks of sleepless nights he spent wondering if he could have done anything- _anything_ else. He still could feel the shock of emotion he received as he watched her swagger through the casino like she owned the place. He was surprised and angry…and relieved, all at once. He was startled by her perseverance. Not only had she made it out of that cemetery alive, but she carved a path through the Wasteland on her way for revenge. He would never admit it, but he was afraid of what she could do to him. Cutting down hordes of raiders and Fiends was like her day job now. It was painfully obvious how easily she could deal with him if she wanted. And yet, there she appeared, the great diplomat of the Mojave. The he stood, her would-be murderer, and all she wanted was answers. If it had been anyone else, he would have thought them naïve.

But up to his room they went and talk they did. It was awkward at first; they were both very aware of the small scar that disappeared under her copper hairline. With some help from a bottle of wine, though, they relaxed, and sharing his master plan became easy. He still needed to keep some secrets, of course, but it wasn't long before she knew about the Platinum Chip and his prior work with Not-At-Home. They talked about his time with the Boot Riders over bottle number two, and ultimately decided they were hungry enough to share bottle number three over dinner. It had been a long time since he'd taken a girl to dinner; life had gotten in the way. His plans had gotten in the way. But this girl- this tough, sweet, understanding girl…he started to think that maybe she could be part of his plans. He wasn't completely sure if it was actually him thinking that or the wine, but he was certainly the one calling the shots when he leaned across the small table to kiss her. He wasn't surprised when she pulled away after a moment, but he _was_ surprised when she asked if they could go back up to his room. He just remembered snippets of the evening after that. He remembered holding her tightly on the elevator ride up. He remembered getting caught in his jacket as she tried to wrestle it off, giggling up a storm while they stumbled through his living room. Images flashed through his mind of them collapsing on his bed together, her hair free from its tight bun and his meticulous side split tousled beyond recognition. And he could never forget that- that _foot_ thing… He could die right here and now knowing he'd experienced that little bit of heaven.

He never really slept that night. There was far too much to think about with this development. He really did hate to leave her alone the next morning; he certainly hadn't lied about that. But the more he looked over at her sleeping form, the clearer his objective became. He needed a corner of the Wasteland where they didn't have to worry about monumental battles being just on the horizon, and he sure as hell didn't want to be under Not-At-Home's thumb anymore. This whole conflict needed to be brought to an end. Who better than him to see that happen?

Evidently his plan wasn't as well thought out as he believed it to be. He could still faintly smell the cologne that alerted the dogs lingering on his clothes; the bites on his leg twinged with every little movement. For the most part, he was otherwise okay- at least for now. He'd been told that it would be she who chose how he died. If it was like any of the other graces he'd seen Caesar offer, there wouldn't be much getting out of it, if she even wanted to. It wasn't as though he'd deluded himself into believing he'd get out of this alive. He had a good idea of just how far he'd make it on that crippled leg before the Praetorians caught up with him. _That_ would not be a swift death. He brushed the thought from his mind as she turned to look at him. He couldn't quite place the emotion behind her eyes. Maybe it was disappointment; it wasn't a look he was used to receiving, after all. She slipped something small and silver into her jacket as she approached. He set his jaw as she crouched to meet his eyes. He hid his discomfort with a warm smile.

"Hey, pussycat." She replied with a small smile of her own. "Look, I know it's hard to contain yourself in my presence, but do try," he joked. Her demeanor broke for a moment with a little laugh, and she sighed.

"Benny…" she trailed off.

"I know, I know. I screwed up."

"You walked in here alone!"

"And what do you think you've done?" She paused. A moment passed as she looked over him, considered him. He felt naked under her stare as she grimaced at the spatters of blood on his coat.

"I was invited." It was his turn to laugh.

"To the party of the century, huh? What did Baldie want, anyway?"

"He gave me the Chip. He wants me to destroy whatever's in the bunker," she explained plainly.

"But you're not gonna, right?" he said warily, "You know what's down there?"

"What?"

"Vegas." She gazed at him for a moment.

"What are you talking about?" Benny smiled.

"Listen, pussycat, whatever's down there is House's key to keeping these thugs off the Strip. You want that, right?"

"Of course I do," she scoffed.

"Then you've gotta get in there and stack the deck just like House wants you to do. Set everything up nice and pretty and get the hell outta here."

"What about you?" she whispered. He shrugged.

"What about me?" They were silent again. He shifted slightly as she broke her gaze for the first time. "Look," he winced, "I know I'm done. The best thing you can do for me right now is to keep Vegas free. Go see Yes-Man when you're out of here. He'll explain everything."

"The robot? What-?" He shushed her as the Praetorians eyed the pair warily.

"House has kept Vegas in his pocket for long enough," he said pointedly. She nodded slowly.

"So am I the heir to the great Benny now?" He chuckled.

"Yeah, I 'spose so. I can't very well die without one, right?" Her smile faded. "Word on the street is, you've got final say on what happens to me," his face was genial, but his tone was grim as she nodded, staring at the ground. He watched her jaw clench and unclench.

"Why did you have to go and get yourself caught?" she wondered aloud, "What am I supposed to do?"

"I already told you; go save the world. I'm just a loose end now."

"I can't- how can I be expected to just throw you to the dogs?" she exclaimed.

"Well," he reasoned, "You could just do in me in nice and quick; I'm sure that would be infinitely preferable to dogs."

"You know what I mean," she glared, "Just give me a moment to think about this. There's got to be something…"

"What's to think about, pussycat? Just don't screw it up like I did; I don't wanna have to trek all the way across the desert looking for you when you botch this thing." She was silent, hands over her face as he watched her, her thoughts clearly racing. "Dollface, c'mon, no hard feelings-"

"Benny, stop!" she snapped. "I'm sorry." He stared back, stunned. Sorry for what? "You want me to deal with you? Fine! I'll deal with you!" He looked around awkwardly as her voice raised.

"Hey, look, I was just trying to-"

"To what? Make it easier? I'll show you how easy it is, Benny. Lemme show you how easy it is to deal with a double-crossing scoundrel like you." The feeling of dread returned to the pit of his stomach as she stood up, scowling down at him. He had not anticipated this; his mouth was agape at her hardened expression. "Caesar, I have made my decision. I want him strung up." Benny swallowed hard.

"What?"

"I want him on a cross. I want him to have plenty of time to think about what he's done and then I want him to die," she spat- almost literally- at him.

"Hang on now-" he started, his brow furrowed. The Praetorian struck him across the mouth midsentence.

"Silence, profligate!" Dazed, he was hauled to his feet by the guards so that she was once again looking him in the eye.

"Is this better than dogs, Benny?" She smiled, not in the sweet manner he'd come to expect from her, but in a devilish, malevolent way that blindsided him as he tried desperately to understand what was going on.

"You- what's the matter with you? What about everything you just said?" He felt himself begin dragged towards the door as she crossed her arms with that evil grin still on her face.

"What about it?"

"You're sick! You're fucking mental!" He was yelling over his shoulder now as the Praetorians' grips tightened. Struggling for freedom, he jerked this way and that. The world became a sick whirl of colours as he saw the tent flap coming closer. There was no way- anything but this… He wrenched his arm hard and sharp pains spread from his shoulder- but it was free! Maybe he could-

His thoughts were cut off but a winding blow to the stomach. He doubled over and found himself on his knees again, gasping for air. His arm felt like it was on fire. He heard the 'shing' of a machete being unsheathed and felt a hand grab his collar as the butt of the weapon was brought down sharply. The world vanished into darkness.


	2. Lots of Hours to Spend with You

[AN: So here's chapter two; I was so excited to have some reviews already that I just kept writing- and then it was 2 AM. Yuck.

DreamHunter4: Thank you very much! I hope the plan turns out as clever as you hoped! Also, I laughed at the rocket comment for a good hour.

UntalentedArtist: I actually started watching Friends _because_ of Fallout! I like to think that my love for both characters serves to help the other out. :) Also, one of my favourite New Vegas games so far was the time I created a character that looked just like Benny, hurried to Vegas, killed him for his suit, and played the rest of the time with Maria in hand. It was awesome.

So, same as last time: read, review, reprimand me for not uploading sooner, yadda yadda.]

_**What's New, Pussycat?** Chap. 2 - Lots of Hours to Spend with You_

Benny licked his lips again as the sun blinded him from across the lake. The reflection off the water made it all the worse as he tried to close his eyes against the intruding glare. It was so warm… He was starting to think he would have preferred to have been lashed up here in the buff, but that would have just resulted in an awful burn and an even more dehydrated Chairman than the cross already held. He found himself drifting off again, his chin slumped onto his chest. He would float in and out, coming around whenever a legionary came around to throw insults, or rocks at him. Afterwards, he would fade out again and a little time would have passed. He found himself wishing to just not wake up. It would be so much easier to sleep until he died. He opened his eyes and the sun was finally sinking below the horizon. At least the heat subsided a little at night. Oh the small blessings one found when strapped to a telephone pole.

He still had no clue how the hell this happened. He'd spent the last day going over the conversation in his head, trying to find the trigger that landed him here. As far as he could tell, the dame must've spontaneously lost her mind. Besides the shooting her in the head and the running out on her after what must have been the best night in either of their lives, he couldn't think of a damn thing he did wrong. He tried to shift his weight around to find a more comfortable position to sulk in, but he only succeeded in slipping further through the ropes around his ankles. His shoulder protested angrily with a sharp cramp; he bit his lip to keep himself from hissing in pain. There was no way he'd give those slavers the satisfaction. If he had to die on a cross, he'd do it with as much elegance and class as he could muster. He closed his eyes and found himself staring at her. She still looked so sweet and innocent... Pffft. Right. He tried imagining her with a goatee and devil horns; it was more difficult than it should have been. He'd thought she had some steely moral fiber! She had spent weeks tracking him down and the swath she cut through the desert was lined not with bodies (at least not totally), but with treaties and truces. She was the savior of the Wasteland! Was there always this devil lying just below the surface? She hid it well, if that was the case. Maybe this was always her plan, from the very beginning. She wanted him to walk right into this camp and save her some work. She'd probably told Caesar all about his plans. In fact, he was willing to bet that she'd had those thugs looking for him from the very beginning! He eyed the redhead floating in the darkness. Her eyes had that same sad look they had last night. This time he knew exactly what it was: regret. But there was no hint of regret in her eyes as she laid down his punishment. He opened his eyes and shook his head, mentally swatting the image away.

It was dark now. He had no idea how long he'd drifted into his thoughts, but it looked like many of the torches in the camp were being put out. From his perch he could see legionaries making their way over the drawbridge towards the camp. Several of the young boys looked over at him and laughed, pointing as they strode over in their too-big recruit armor.

"Profligate!" one of them jeered, "How does it feel to have your death decided by a woman?" He smirked right back.

"I dunno. Let me know when she comes back and blows this whole camp sky high." He didn't care if they knew she was on their side; he would do anything to get under their skin at this point. He was surprised at the scowls that appeared on the boys' faces. He was about to wonder just how gullible they were when he remembered he was speaking to brood of the Legion. The oldest of the group stepped forward and spat at him. He could hear the splat of it hitting his shoe. "Oh, a shoe shine? You do have all the amenities, don't you?" he deadpanned, "Not to nitpick, but you missed a spot." The boy snarled and pulled something from his belt.

"You degenerate!" Benny yelped as he felt a blade sink through his foot. He tried to jerk it away from the white hot pain but the ropes held him tightly in place. So much for stoicism.

"Caius!" a bold voice shouted from the main path, "Come to bed! The profligate is to be left to die at the hands of Sol!" Caius wrenched the knife from Benny's shoe and sheathed it.

"May your own blood shine your shoe, profligate," he sneered as the boys left him clenching his teeth and flexing his foot. If Sol didn't kill him, then his mouth sure as hell would. Not that he would mind at this point, of course. He'd have to make it a point to harass a full-grown decanus in the morning. Maybe they'd get fed up with him and just shoot him. He slumped back onto his chest and started pondering insults that would really rile up the Legion boys. Soon enough, though, he found himself staring at the same redheaded vision. Green eyes wore through his own and he found himself unable to think at all. He'd give all the caps in Vegas to be able to imagine her like he had two nights ago. She seemed kind and logical and _so_ beautiful… He was slipping again. He could almost feel her hands on his face. Her fingers traced patterns through his hair and her breath tickled his neck as she looked up at him. He let out a shallow rasp as she brushed his chapped lips with her thumb, as though discovering them for the very first time. She whispered his name and it sent chills through him. He murmured in reply, but the vision repeated.

Benny.

"Hmm?" he groaned.

Benny.

"I'm here."

"Benny!" He slowly came around. He was first aware of the pain in his shoulders and his now throbbing foot. In fact, the pain in his foot was all he could feel in his appendages; they were cold and numb from the bindings. It felt like a century before his eyes finally opened, and when they did, blackness surrounded him. Many of the remaining torches had been extinguished, blanketing the fort in shadows. It was a moment before he realized the vision hadn't gone. He could still see the green eyes staring back at him in the dark and he blinked fervently to clear his vision, but still she remained. He realized that her hand was still on his face and he could feel it lightly patting his cheek. Benny hesitated and looked past the vision's face. For the first time, he could see all of her. She emerged out of the dark, feet planted on a crate at the base of the telephone pole. One arm was strung around his middle, maintaining her balance. "I'm here, Benny. I'm so sorry," she whispered as she pulled the hand away from his face. Leaning down, she reached into her boot and pulled out a short knife.

"What…" She shushed him gently as she sliced through ropes binding one of his arms.

"I can't explain right now," she whispered, pulling him forward to bear some of his weight as she cut the ropes binding his other arm to the pole, "Hang on to the beam." He did as he was told and felt a tingling rush into his legs as they were freed. She stowed the knife and put her arms around him as he dropped down from the post. His legs felt like jelly and nearly gave out as he stumbled off the crate, but she kept him upright until they were both on the ground. He collapsed to the dirt, panting.

"You…left…"

"I know, I know I did, and I'm so sorry," she whispered, kneeling down beside him. She moved to touch his arm but he jerked it away with a scowl.

"You're…get away from me." He could see the regret again. It was always there, staring back at him in those green eyes.

"I know you don't trust me and I don't blame you, but we still need to get out of here," she begged, "Please, just come with me! I'll explain everything and you can be as mad at me as you want." He stared at her. She looked just as she had two nights ago. There was no malice or devilishness. There was just toughness and sweetness and understanding. Staying here could only turn out for the worse. He nodded slowly. "I planted some explosives near the north wall, so that's where we're heading." She slung his arm over her shoulder and they snuck down the hill. It was slow going as he got used to being on his feet again, but feeling gradually returned and they slunk along the shadows. He felt pathetic as he limped along on an injured leg and a newly-punctured foot, but he did his best to stand on his own as they waited for a guard to wander from his post near the camp. Finally, he roamed around to the other side of a tent and Benny followed her across the moonlit path. As they ducked into the shade again, they heard whispering on the other side of a canvas wall. There was shushing as three short figures emerged from a tent, quietly heading up the hill. He could hear Caius giggling with his friends as they disappeared behind the rock face, headed towards the drawbridge.

"We need to hurry," he whispered, still watching after them.

"What's going on?" she asked, checking around the corner as they moved from tent to tent.

"I've got a feeling I'm gonna be missed." He'd hardly finished his sentence when they heard shouts from the boys across the camp.

"Go!" she urged as figures stirred in the tents. They gave up on silence as they hurried between the masses of canvas. Lanterns flickered to life, casting a red glow over the path before them. Soon, more shouts drifted over the fort, quickly catching up to them. Barks and growls soon joined them. The courier paused to take a small detonator out of her jacket and jammed her finger on the button.

There was a huge blast from the wall in front of them. They could hear legion soldiers stumbling in their tents in surprise as debris pattered the camp.

"That was a little more C-4 than I thought it was," she considered as they hurried to the newly-created door to freedom. Benny smiled in spite of himself as the shredded steel hung limply together over the hole. He hadn't seen anything so beautiful in what felt like a very long time. The shrill _whizz_ of a bullet reminded him that they weren't out of the woods yet. He glanced behind at the soldiers that had made their way out of their quarters and onto the path, lining up shots at them. He could see the muzzle flash and hear the racket of a submachine gun as bullets sunk into the dirt around them. Turning to face their exit again, he hobbled faster after the redheaded vision before him. She grabbed his hand and drug him onward; they were almost there… Another clamor of gunfire followed them and he heard a few slugs ping off the steel. The hand in his own abruptly released as she stumbled, crying out. It was Benny's turn to slip an arm under hers as he did his best to haul her through the opening. He was not prepared for the hasty end to the ground after the wall. Skidding to a stop, he turned to see a veritable wave of soldiers rushing towards the breached wall.

"Hope you don't mind getting wet, pussycat." Wrapping his arms around the wounded courier, they sprang into the dark void and coldness surged up around him.


End file.
